Pain, Love, Loyalty
by Lolligal99
Summary: Len loves her. From the bottom of his heart. She is the only light in his life of darkness. And she is the one who made his life so dark in the first place. He endures so much pain from her, but thinks of it all in the name of loyalty. Will he always be able to satisfy her? And who is this voice he hears in his head, mocking him? Does it hold the painful truth?
1. Chapter 1

**I had the idea for this story out of the blue today, and it just soft of grew as I began to write it. Yes, it appears to be second person POV, but it is NOT referring to the reader. You'll see what I mean. there is a specific character Len is referring to when he says "you". You'll see that it is sort of just representing how big of a part of Len's life this person is. This is sort of an odd pairing and I mean, I am still RinXLen forever, but I sort of like this different idea. If this starts out confusing, thats how it was intended. But if I get enough reviews and decide to continue it, the story will all unravel in the end!**

**By the way, those reading my story, I Am Not Useless, I am halfway finished with Chapter 4. It should be up soon! :**)

My head snaps up at a sound I hear every morning. The lurch of a door opening. The door to my home, and my prison. The place you've trapped me inside. Yet I don't wish to leave it. Part of me thinks it's because I have nowhere else to go. But another part is swayed by a habitual loyalty. Because I am tied to you. I think this was initially your decision. Then, at some point, the choice became mine.

Hearing your footsteps growing closer by the second, I start to see your form walking towards me. I've become quite accustomed to seeing through the darkness. I no longer have to strain my eyes, which are already bloodshot after many sleepless nights. A pillow, sheets, a bed- those are all things that have been long blurred in my memories, and replaced by cold stone floor, musty smells, and hours of discomfort. When morning comes, however, I find comfort in your beautiful face.

Finally reaching me, you crouch down in front of me, and begin tracing my narrow face with your long, warm slender fingers. I smile sweetly for you, converting all of the pain in my body into joy. You smile back, a smile that I am familiar with. A smile that means you are pleased. And if you are pleased, then I am fulfilling my purpose.

Your eyes are brown. A deep, dark, meaningful brown. Your skin, a creamy white. Hair that curves outwards slightly before reaching your shoulders, and that matches the hue of your eyes. Sometimes I wish I could reach up and feel a few locks between my callused fingers, but I only do what pleases you. I must not indulge in my own desires.

You examine the edge of my old, white T-shirt, finding that a bit of it is shredded at the bottom. "What is this?" You inquired with an expressionless tone.

"I believe it is from last night, Miss. From when I fell." I answer, my tone soft, laced in humility. It was my fault I had fallen. I had been weak. I had not endured for you. I am supposed to always take your pain. To take it happily, knowing that my job is being done well. Last night I had failed my job.

I look deeply into your eyes, a single tear falling down my cheek. I open my mouth, and say the words I've trained myself to say.

"I have fallen short, Miss. Please punish me however you see fit."

You close your eyes, and your hand reaches for something on the ground. My chain. As you give it a harsh yank, a small pain tremors through the swollen skin around my neck. I stand up, the clattering of my chain echoing through the frigid air of my cell. I know what comes first in this routine, so I stick out my arm before you command me to. You pull a small blade from your shirt pocket, and slowly dig it into the firm skin of my hand. Then you drag it across. Once. Twice. Two cuts. Two lines. But these are not only lines. They form a number. 11. A number that I've allowed to become way too large. A number that looks fresh and bold next to the fading 10 beside it.

Crimson blood spurts from my hand, some of it landing on your skirt. This earns me a smack across the face. I'm not sure why you are angered, though. Is it really the stain itself? Or is it the fact that whenever you look at it, you will remember my pain? No. The latter can't be true. I've wronged you. Why should I deserve your sympathy?

I stay still as you tie my hands behind my back. This itself is a punishment; that you don't trust me enough to keep still. That you doubt my unconditional loyalty to you. Why would I try to escape anyways? I asked for this myself.

_You fool. You weak fool_.

He spits the words at me. I can't see him usually, only sometimes in the back of my mind. His voice is somehow familiar to me. It almost sounds like mine. From what I've seen of him, I think his hair is blond like mine, and his eyes even seem to be the same shade of blue as mine. He isn't me, though. He is a monster that lives in the back of my mind. So foreign to me, yet seeming to see everything I do, and know everything about me. He confuses me, because I can't figure out who he is. I want him to go away. Perhaps this is more torture from you. Maybe him being inside me takes some of your own pain away. Maybe he used to be your burden.

You must have been beating me for minutes now, judging by the aching in my left hip and stomach, and by the moisture welling up in my eyes. Tears that only hold pain; a natural reflex. I've taught myself to ignore this pain- to distract myself. When I do that, it's all over before I know it.

My thoughts dissolve as one last lash lands on my lower torso. A small whimper escapes my mouth, followed by a clattering sound. I see your whip on the ground, and know you've cast it aside. My eyes meet yours. You pull out the blade again, but this time you use it to slash the ropes holding my hands together. It takes me a second before I register that they are free, and move them to their normal locations at my side.

You extend your hand to me, and I take it between mine. I lift it to my cracked lips, pressing them against your knuckles as a sign of respect, and of submission.

"Thank you, Miss." I say, and smile.

_Why?! Why should she be thanked?! You didn't deserve that_!

I shut my eyes tightly, and shake my head back and forth violently. I hope desperately that you can't hear him. He doesn't seem to understand loyalty. Only rebellion.

I open one eye slightly, and see that you appear to be confused. "What's wrong?"

A sigh of relief is all I can manage. You didn't hear him. You never do seem to.

"It is nothing for you to concern yourself with, Miss." I reply, kissing my Mistress's hand once more. The same hand that tortures me. The same hand that comforts me as well. The hand that controls me.

**I am happy with this chapter, though I'm still not sure where in the dark depths of my mind it came from...**

**LOL, just kidding! So, anyways, please give me feedback if you have time! Tell me if I should continue it or not**.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is Chapter 2! With this chapter you see more of a plot developing, and can start maybe understanding a little more of what's going on. This story is intended to be- quite honestly- one with similar qualities as an old black and white Twilight Zone episode. You see a tattered piece of what is going on, but don't see the full picture until the end. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I am enjoying planning it out!**

It is nightfall when you return. Of course, I don't have much of a way of knowing that, except for my natural perception of passing time. Also, in your hands you hold my dinner, rice, kidney beans, a piece of wheat bread, and a tall glass of milk. It might seem that I eat well for a prisoner, but it is only part of the time you feed me this much. I've gone for what I assume was almost three days without food before.

"Hey, sweetie," You start, using your motherly tone of voice that you use half the time. The other half is when you are angry, and scarcely speak at all. "I brought you your dinner."

I look at the food hungrily, thankful that your brought me such a portion.

"Thank you, Miss! This is very generous of you!" I exclaim as you set down the food in front of me. You chuckle as I pick up my chopsticks and start eating.

"You're very welcome. It was the least I could do after hurting you earlier. It's so painful for me to remember the sight of you crying. Are you still in pain?" You say these worlds slowly, eyes full of concern.

"Only a little, Miss. Please do not concern yourself. I wish not to be another burden in your life." I try to reassure you with a small smile.

You sigh slightly, shaking your head, then lean forward and press your full, red lips to my forehead. My cheeks flush light pink, and I look up at you. I know you didn't mean the gesture to be one of intimacy, but I can't help it. There is some mystery about everything you do, and it allures me.

As I am eating, and thinking, you sit down next to me and begin toying with my hair. It is a sandy blond and and a bit shaggy. I continue eating as you run your fingers through it, twist it around a bit, then stop. I no longer feel it on my neck, and touch the back of my head curiously to investigate. My hair is up in a little bob. A ponytail. I don't ever remember seeing anyone with a ponytail. Just like I don't remember ever hearing bells ring, seeing a summer sunset, or learning the words to Amazing Grace. Yet somehow, I know of all these things. The outside world is a place I know inside and out. Oddly enough, I have no recollection of living in it.

So, although I never recall seeing someone wear a ponytail,nor ever wearing one myself, I know that it is how you have styled my hair now. I look at you, confused, about to question it. But that's when I notice a hint of sadness in your eyes, even though you are trying to hide it with a smile. However, I know you better that. You are the only person I ever have known, after all.

I almost ask you what is wrong, but then know that this would only make matters worse. The way you look at me is a look I see in you only every once in awhile. A sympathetic look. One that seems to be trying to tell me something. Trying to send a message across. Unfortunately it's one that I never receive. I wonder why you don't just tell me. And in the other hand, I somehow know that it is because you cannot.

So I try to continue eating as you continue to gaze at me mournfully. I am a bit startled when I hear your voice ring out, tinted with regret.

"I suppose you don't even know my name, do you?" You manage, though your voice, I can tell, is faltering.

"No, Miss. You have never told me it." I reply, though I know you don't want to hear that.

You open your mouth, as if to tell me, but then shut it again. You seem to be fighting with yourself, with unbearably conflicting emotions. Finally, as if making up your mind, you stand up, walk directly in front on me, and drop down onto your knees. Continuing with slow, deliberate motions, you put one of your hands on each of my shoulders and lean closer to me until our foreheads are touching. I feel your steady breathes on my lips.

"And I might never be able to tell you, either. I am sorry that I have made it that way." Calmly you whisper these words, which I do not understand. All I know is that they must mean a lot to you.

As if not to scare my, you make your movements subtle and rhythmic. You adjust you hands to clasp behind my neck, close your eyes, and tilt your head upwards, so it is no longer our foreheads together, but now our lips. I know not the meaning of this gesture, only that it feels warm, loving, and a bit apologetic. Above all, though, it feels good.

So I lock my lips around yours, and somehow, as if it is natural, slide my hands down your sides, resting them on your snake-like hips. You make a sound of contentment as we both slowly move our lips with synchronicity like clockwork, pressing harder each time. And I like this. Because, like some sort of letter from home or memory from a childhood I never had, this sensational is happy and familiar. So as we kiss, eventually beginning to gasp for air due to passing time, I confirm in my mind the fact that I love you. Everything about you, tantrums and all.

Many times, when I sit alone during the day, I wonder if I lived a different life previous to this. If that is why I know so much about the world. And when we finally break away, panting and staring into each other's eyes, I wonder if in that life, I had been in love with you too. If that is true, I decide, I would be happy with that. So I smile, cup your cheek with one hand, and lean in for another deep kiss. With my free hand, I stroke your hair gently.

I have a feeling that you won't mind my indulging just this once.

**Please review if you have the time! I haven't gotten real feedback on this yet, so just a little would really mean a lot to me. I would like to know things like if the writing style I am using for this is working or not. Thanks for reading! See you in Chapter 3**!


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, those who have been reading this! I really appreciate your support! I had been trying ti keep this from happening, but with this chapter, the rating will have to go back up to M. I have labeled the passage that is more steamy, so if you want you can read around it if it bothers you. But really, there are some important hints dropped during those paragraphs, so it's up to you. Anyways, enjoy!**

I don't remember us falling asleep last night. But here you are, laying next to me, your face half hidden by hair slightly matted from a night of sleeping on the floor. My lips curl up into a smile at seeing you like this, letting tiny breaths in and out of your barely parted lips. You look so innocent. I'll let you sleep, since you probably need the rest. Slowly, memories of last night flow back to me.

We had kissed for the longest, bodies pressed against each other almost longingly. Past the "Vanilla Sugar" fragrance you always drown yourself in, I could sense a different, more natural scent. One that can't quite be described with words. It wasn't sweet, or even fresh. It was just 'you'. And I found it comforting.

After what would have had to have been no less than ten minutes, your fingertips began outlining the edge of the collar to my chain, where it met my skin. I winced slightly, for the skin there is raw and feels fragile. You looked at me, the sadness returning to your eyes.

"Do you want to take it off? Just for tonight?" You offered, and I could tell that you trusted me. Obviously, you wouldn't have offered otherwise. I nodded slowly, so you pulled a necklace out from under your short, red vest. On it were two keys and a charm in the shape of a box, with a small form perched on top of it. You used one of the keys to unlock the clasp to my collar, and I assumed the other was a key to my cell. I had taken a moment to consider this, because in theory, it didn't make much sense. With my chain, which I had never taken off until that moment, I couldn't reach the door even if it was unlocked. That only left two possible reasons for the key.

1.) That you hold a strong obsession with keeping me inside here, and despite the almost nonexistent possibility of me being able to escape or even trying to, you will leave NO chance of losing me.

OR

2.) The lock is to prevent others from getting inside the cell. Many levels of protectiveness could support this theory.

Honestly, both of these could be valid.

And what about the charm? I couldn't make out much about it, just that it seemed to be made of wood, and had some inscription on the front of it. I also was unable to identify the shape on top of the box. I decided to get a closer look at it sometime later.

Then I was distracted by the feeling of cool air hitting the now free skin of my neck. My hands automatically flew up to massage it, and to inspect the blisters that had been trapped. A tingling feeling of freedom rushed through me, though I knew it wouldn't amount to anything in the scheme of things. This was a small treat nonetheless.

"Better?" You asked simply.

"Yes, so much better, Miss. Thank you." I jumped to respond sincerely.

"Good," You retorted, throwing the chain to the side in one fluent motion. "Now, where were we?" A mischievous smile played on your lips, mirrored by one of my own.

"I was indulging in you. And I believe you were enjoying it."

You had smiled, with a small blush on your cheeks, which I was glad of. It made me feel as if I had the upper hand for once. But just a little.

I have to admit, it caught me by surprise when you suddenly pressed my shoulders to the ground, literally pouncing on me. Tickling my right ear with your soft lips, you let out a cold chuckle. Not knowing where it came from, a word popped into my mind to describe your voice.

Lustful.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is my boy thinking dirty thoughts? Need I remind you that I am the dominant one?"

My eyes widened, realizing what you meant. How far were you going to take this? Did I really even care?

Slowly, I narrowed my eyes, contorting my lips into a sideways smile. "Maybe you should, Mistress."

_Start of Lemon:_

At this, you were satisfied, and plunged into an hour of touching, kissing, biting, and all around teasing. It was so pleasureful. Yet so torturous, because it left me wanting more. My panting, groaning, and begging only seemed to fuel you. When I felt like I was about to burst, and was noticing sweat covering you as well, you stopped and looked into my eyes, hands sliding up my long-since bare chest and cradling my face.

"You...know what comes next?" You half-spoke and half-gasped the words, only making my needing increase.

And somehow, I did know. Nodding slightly, I gently flipped us over to finish what you started. You unclasped the necklace yourself, keeping it in the palm of your hand, and I removed the rest of your expensive clothes, piling them next to my contrasting clump of rags. I captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, and slowly slid inside, not wanting to hurt you in the least bit. In my faint knowledge, it seemed that there was something missing. Something that I should have come into contact with by then. But whatever it was could wait until later. Because in that moment, it was just me, you, and our love being made.

As I started to move, slowly gaining speed and strength as I adjusted to your size, I could tell that your breaths were getting more frequent and shallow. I wanted to comfort you.

I leaned down so that my face was closer to yours, and gently kissed away the tears beginning to leak down your face.

"Shhh..." I murmured as you moaned desperately into my ear. I knew what you were feeling because I was feeling it too, so I gained momentum,going as hard and fast as I could. Pulling out and pushing in as far as possible. Finally, an earth-shattering scream escaped your lips and I felt fluid spew out from you, causing my hips to buckle and release into you as well. A strangled sigh left my lips before I pressed them to yours. Pulling out and falling onto you, I tangled my fingers within your hair, which was glistening with sweat.

_End of Lemon_

I noticed that you were crying again, almost sobbing. Concern filled my eyes until I realized that these were not tears of pain but of joy.

You looked me in the eye, smiling warmly. "It's been so long..."

I had then adjusted our bodies so we were facing each other, and kissed you slowly over and over, with one hand on your chest, waiting for your heartbeat, along with mine, to slow down. I barely remember whispering "I love you," against your lips.

Perhaps that was when we had fallen asleep, tired, but content. However, I do remember hearing a tearful, feminine voice as I slipped into sleep. One that troubled me.

_I thought you loved me! Didn't you say that you always would? You liar! I hate you! (A slam of a door) (A malicious laugh) (An angry yell of inaudible words)_

Thinking about it, the laugh sounded a lot like yours. And the yell sound like Him. The one who taunts me.

This all came back to haunt me as I carefully inspected the charm on the necklace you held in your limp hand. I could tell now that the lumpy form was a marionette, and the inscription was in Japanese characters, Kanji to be precise.

人形のマスター

'Puppet Master'

And though I have no sure way of knowing what this means to you, in a way, it haunts me as well.

**So, what do you think the significance of the charm, and the inscription is? Is there any significance? **

**Review Responses:**

**Harper Rose Mitchell: Hey! "Violence is never the answer!" is usually my line! Well, whatever. Tell my lead female character that! She seems to think differently! Well, anyways, glad you like it! Thanks for giving me advice for this chapter! It really helped when I was writing it! And LOL, I am not giving up on the other two! I've just got to finally write the second half of Chapter 5 of 'Mirror Image', I'm going to try to update 'I Am Not Useless' next, and I might even go back to the "Stop the Wedding!" fic and put it on here after I fix it and make it less " Romance Novelly"**

**Guest: Glad you are interested! I don't want to give anything away, but the relationship really is rather different. What do you think is up with 'Meiko'? Bigger question, just to get you thinking, look back at the second chapter and the discussion about her name. Why can't she tell him her name? What might be some reasons? Hopefully that helps get you headed towards the answer.**

**Thank you so much for your support and see you next chapter**!


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